what my heart knows
by ShadowsTakeAll
Summary: After Jade makes a surprising confession, Tori seems to be avoiding her. But when Jade finally tracks down her elusive friend, it just so happens that Tori has a surprise of her own. [Jori two-shot, mostly fluff.]
1. Chapter 1

**Hi, and thanks for clicking on my story. Before you read, I should warn you that this is my first Victorious fic, and also it's a _lot_ lighter than I usually write, so just be aware of that. This started out as a one-shot but ended up being too long so I split in half.**

 **Before we start, I would like to offer a massive thank you to** **Azkadellio** **for being my beta reader on this one (and actually being my first beta reader ever, so that's pretty cool); your feedback was invaluable and I hope you enjoy the finished product. I'd also like to offer a quick shoutout to my friend** **Runawaybaby555 , if she's reading this: my obsession with Victorious, my Jori feels, and consequently this fic, is pretty much because of you (take that how you will).**

 **Right, that's enough from me. Like I said, it's a two-shot, so the next part will be up in the next few days - along with an announcement. I hope you guys like my foray into the world of Victorious, and I hope to see you in the reviews.**

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

 _Janitor's closet, before first period._

This is not the kind of pain I like. It's the bad kind of torture, the worst kind of anticipation, the exact shade of blood-red, disappointment-drenched expectation that I've been telling myself for years I have no need for. It's a new kind of pain, something I never thought I'd experience. Why? Because I'm _Jade_ freaking _West_ and I don't fall in love with people who don't love me back. Actually, scratch that. I don't fall in love with people who I can't _make_ love me back. And I definitely don't fall for people I make such a show of hating.

But here I am, Monday morning, in the janitor's closet. Alone. Definitely not crying because I'm not _that_ lame, but I'm also not my usual sardonic self. Being as witty and scathing as I usually am takes a lot more effort than people give me credit for, and I just don't have that kind of enthusiasm today.

For the fifth time in half as many minutes I pull out my phone. No new messages. No missed calls. No sign that I haven't totally and completely screwed myself over. I sigh, pulling my favorite pair of scissors out from my boot. I turn them over in my hands, thinking.

"Woah there," says a friendly voice from the doorway. "Bad day?"

My head snaps up at the noise and my grip tightens on the scissors, a reflex. Then my mind catches up to what my heart already knew. I'd recognize that voice anywhere. I force myself to relax, not wanting anyone to notice just how agitated I am. I'm not supposed to care about stuff like this. It's stupid girly stuff that never used to matter to me. But that was _before._

"No worse than usual," I respond, not bothering to stand up.

A moment passes and then Beck lowers himself to the ground beside me, companionably but not uncomfortably close. We broke up months ago and we've only just managed to become friends again, but he's the last person I want to see right now. Well, there's one person lower than him on the list, but I don't even want to think about _her_.

"You okay?" he asks when I don't say anything.

Something inside me snaps. "You obviously know that I'm not, or you wouldn't have asked," I say curtly. But there's no real venom in my voice, and he knows it. I grit my teeth and try again. "Leave me alone, Beck."

He calls my bluff. "You know, you really need a new hiding place," he says conversationally, pulling out his phone. His eyes flick across the screen, he frowns, and I see my opportunity.

"Thanks for the tip," I say gruffly, snatching up my bag as I get to my feet. "I'm going to go find somewhere a little less crowded."

Beck lets me storm out, even though we both know I'm not really angry. Well, not at him, anyway. I'm angry at myself, but I can't admit that because then I'd also have to face up to the incredibly stupid, naïve thing I did last night. And I am _not_ going to do that.

X.X.X.X.X

 _Sikowitz's classroom, after first period._

I can sense the disaster before it's about to happen, but I'm powerless to stop it. In a whirlwind of red hair and childish giggles Cat launches herself at me, and I stumble backward under her weight. After what seems like forever, Cat disentangles herself from me and I take a step back, glaring at her. Well, _trying_ to glare at her. It's really hard to stay mad at someone who's the human equivalent of a Labradoodle puppy.

"Hi!" Cat says, grinning from ear to ear.

I may not be mad at her, but I'm in no mood to listen to her ramblings. "Bye," I respond, turning on my heel and heading for the door.

But Cat grabs my arm and pulls me back, holding me there as the rest of the class files out of the room. All of the class, that is, except the one person I actually wanted to see. (Or possibly was dreading to see, depending on how brave I'm feeling at the time the thought strikes me.) Because that particular person was, for the first time in living memory, _absent._

"Where are you going?" Cat asks, still holding my arm.

"To second period?" I raise my eyebrow, wondering whether Cat's forgotten about class again. Last week she spent a full five minutes giggling when she remembered that there was such a thing as third period. _It's such a nice number,_ she said, and we agreed because none of us had any particular objections to the number three. _It's so cute, like a bunny,_ she went on, and we all exchanged glances because, inevitably, she'd lost us.

"I'll walk with you!" Cat announces brightly, looping her arm through mine.

I stare at her. "We don't have the same class," I point out.

Her smile falters for a second, then brightens again. "Then I'll go to your class. I've always been interested in stage management and -"

"Wait," I interrupt sharply, "how do you know what class I have now?"

On a good day Cat can barely remember what class _she_ has, so I have no idea why she'd know my schedule. Something about the way she's acting is putting me on edge, but I can't figure out what.

"Leprechauns," she blurts out, but that's too random even for her. She knows something she's not telling me, and that has to be a first. Cat couldn't keep a secret if her pet bunny's life depended on it.

"Cat," I say, with a hint of warning in my voice. "What's going on?"

She blinks twice and then twirls a strand of hair between her fingers. "Well this morning my brother -"

"I don't care about your brother," I snap, and her face falls. Maybe I'd been too harsh on her, but I'm too riled up to care. "What aren't you telling me?"

In lieu of actually answering, Cat just lets out a squeak and scampers from the room. I think about chasing her, but it's not worth it. And I really do need to get to class. With a sigh I sling my bag over my shoulder and leave the room, and I am definitely, defiantly not thinking about a certain half-Latina girl and her stupid smile.

Because there's no way I can be _that_ lame. Right?

X.X.X.X.X

 _Corridors, before third period._

I cross my arms over my chest and lean against my locker, watching the sea of students slip by. Something occurred to me last period, but I need to test my hypothesis. I stay where I am long after the bell goes, long after Cat's stopped watching me from by the vending machines where she thinks I can't see her. I don't know what's gotten into her, but I have enough on my mind without worrying about it.

Finally, my hunch proven correct, I make my way to class. _She's_ not the only one who isn't here. Andre's absent as well, which normally wouldn't bother me. But today it does, and I know exactly why.

After class I corner Beck, who seems mildly alarmed but not exactly surprised by it. "Hey, Jade," he said, raising his eyebrows in a quizzical expression that I used to find adorable. "Can I help you with something?"

I don't know whether to go for apathy or aggression so I compromise and hit somewhere around the burning curiosity mark. "Have you heard from Andre today?"

Beck isn't quick enough to mask his reaction, which is a bizarre mix of suspicion and guilt. And just like that, I know I'm onto something. "No," he says, a few seconds too slow for it to be believable.

"Hm." I feign thoughtfulness, tapping my chin as if I'm considering something. "Maybe I should give him a call. You know, check up on him."

"No!" Beck says, but this time it's too fast. He's hiding something too. That little weasel. "I mean," he goes on, now carefully controlling his voice, "I don't think there's any need to."

"Right," I say slowly. "I wouldn't want to bother him if he's busy, would I?"

"Exactly." Beck's frowning, trying to figure out my game. I smile sweetly, determined not to let him in. He's playing me, but where he's an amateur, I'm the master.

"It must be pretty bad, for him not to be at school," I muse. "Maybe I should just go over to his house instead. Give him a care package." I'm getting to Beck, I can tell. So I push it. "Do you think he'd prefer flowers or a card?"

And just like that, Beck catches on. And he pushes back. "I think what he'd prefer is to be left alone," he says. "Like you said, it must be pretty bad. I'm sure he's not up to visitors."

"I would hate to think that he's on his own," I go on, my voice dripping with sweetness, as I fish for information. Beck knows why Andre's not at school, and I want to know. No. I _need_ to know. I don't know why, but it's very important to find out why Andre's not here. Actually, I do know why I need to know, but I can't own up to it.

"I'm sure he's fine," Beck says firmly.

 _And you won't be if you don't tell me what's going on,_ I want to say, but I stop myself. Beck can keep a secret like nobody's business. I'm not going to get anything out of him. "Fine," I say, giving him a glare that makes it clear he's not entirely off the hook. I want to say something else, something dramatic or snarky, but I don't have the energy. So I just exhale sharply, shoot him another glare, and depart.

It seems I'm doing a lot of storming out today, but for once it doesn't make me feel better. What _does_ cheer me up is the fact that while I was talking to Beck, I came up with a plan. Now I just have to put it into action.

X.X.X.X.X

 _Cat's locker, after school._

Contrary to popular opinion, I don't actually hate anyone in the group. Sure, Robbie can be a creep and Andre's constant optimism can get on my nerves, but mostly my snark is all for show. And right now I need to put on a hell of show, because Cat knows what's going on and she's the weakest link. So I need to break her.

She's almost reached her locker when she notices that I'm here, and then her eyes widen and if I'm not much mistaken I can actually hear her whimper. Before I can say anything she spins around and is about to make a beeline for the door, but I stop her with a single word.

" _Valentine_ ," I growl. I'm usually pretty soft on Cat, but times like this require a firm hand. And she reacts exactly the way I wanted her to: freezing, hesitating, turning around to face me.

There's a beat of silence, and then she hitches a smile on her face. "Oh _hi_ Jade," she says brightly, coming toward me.

She's playing innocent, and I decide to play along. "Hey Cat," I say, making my voice smooth and friendly. "You got plans tonight?"

"No," she says, and then she blinks a few times, a memory dawning on her. "I mean yes."

I raise my eyebrows. I'm not actually annoyed with her yet, but I can play the part. "Which is it, Cat? Yes or no?" I watch as she squirms under my gaze. Sometimes my reputation comes in handy.

She bites her lip. "I don't remember."

"Hm." I cross my arms, dial up my glare a couple of levels of intensity, and wait.

It doesn't take long.

"I don't _know anything_ ," Cat practically squeals, her arms flying up as if to ward off any further questions. Like _that's_ going to work.

"Yeah, you do," I counter. By this point I'm actually starting to get annoyed, although it's hard because Cat's such a sweetheart – even _I_ can't stay mad at someone so sweet. "Come on, Cat," I go on encouragingly. "We're friends, right? You can tell me."

"No, I _can't_ ," Cat says, her voice almost a wail now. "Andre made me promise not to -"

She cuts herself off with another squeak, but it's too late. And once she realizes that she's given the game up, it doesn't take long for me to get the rest of the story from her.

And the story is this.

 _Sunday evening._

I have a little too much to drink, my common sense disappears altogether, and I send a heartfelt message. To _Tori_ freaking _Vega_. To tell her that I have _feelings_ for her. Gag.

 _Sunday night._

Like some lovesick puppy I fall asleep with my phone in my hand, waiting for Tori to reply. But she doesn't.

 _Monday morning._

Tori doesn't show up for school. Neither does Andre. Beck and Cat cover for them like a couple of chumps, and did they _really_ think I wouldn't figure it out?

 _Monday afternoon._

Cat admits that she'd promised Andre that she'd distract me, and that Tori and Andre are together right now. And that I'm not supposed to know about that. And then she begs me not to go to Tori's house, _not that that's where they are, because if they were I wouldn't be able to tell you, but still you have to promise not to go,_ and I'm already not listening.

That's the story so far.

And here's how the rest of it goes.

I'm going to go straight to Tori's house. And since Tori unwittingly stole a piece of my heart, I'm going to give her a piece of my mind.

And let me tell you: it is _not_ going to be pretty.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

 **Soo, any bets on what's going to happen next chapter? See you there, and don't forget to review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well hey there, and thanks for the faves/follows/reviews last chapter. I am so glad that you liked the beginning of the story, and I hope the second half lives up to your expectations. Before we get into the chapter, I would just like to make it very clear that I do not own the song that comes up in this chapter. I redid the words, but the original lyrics, tempo, and everything else do not belong to me, at all. Now that's out of the way, here's the chapter, and I hope you all enjoy it! Don't forget to let me know what you think.**

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

 _Vega household, evening._

It's not until I'm standing on Tori's doorstep, fist raised to knock and something that I hope passes for an apathetic smirk on my face, that I realize just how ridiculous this all is. For the first time I can remember, I have totally let my emotions get the better of me. I take a step back, lowering my fist and mentally kicking myself. Of course Tori and Andre are together. Why shouldn't they be? It's not like my feelings for her mean that she should have feelings for me too. I mean, it would be the first time I've been on this side of a one-sided crush, but that's not Tori's fault.

And just like that, my anger – although it had been more like indignation anyway – fades. I cross my arms, lost in an internal debate. I don't want to leave things hanging with Tori, but I shouldn't just barge in on her if she's with Andre. That wouldn't be fair, and despite all my complaining and apparent disdain for her, she's never actually done anything to me. Heck, she's even done things _for_ me, like that time when she refused to kiss Beck because she _couldn't do that to a friend._ So I guess we're friends, and I have no place being here.

As I turn to leave, the door opens. I spin around, my heart suddenly pounding, and am surprised – and almost disappointed – by who I see.

"Jade," Andre says, his eyebrows almost flying off his forehead. He's staring at me like he's never seen me before, and I stare back, as confused as he is surprised. He stares at me a moment longer and then calls over his shoulder, "Hey Tori! _Jade's_ here."

He turns back to me, his eyebrows still raised, but his expression is melting into a smile. I can hear Tori shout something in response but I can't quite hear what it is, since I'd taken a couple of steps away from the door.

"You can go in," Andre says, pushing the door wide open and stepping around me. "She's expecting you."

And then, with a secret kind of smile like he knows something I don't, he leaves. I stay. Right where I am. For several long minutes.

Although I know I embarrassed myself last night, I really want to see Tori. I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it. The door is still open, and I stare at it, trying to make up my mind. I shouldn't be here. Tori and Andre are together; Tori clearly doesn't want to talk to me; Cat and Beck knew about Tori and Andre, and probably know about my feelings too. I shouldn't be here.

As I reach for the handle to close the door before I leave, a hand wraps around my wrist. I bite back a yelp and then have to catch my breath as that familiar smile greets me.

"Jade," Tori beams, "you're here. Come in."

She doesn't give me a choice, because she drags me inside and kicks the door closed behind us. I flinch, bracing myself for what's coming next. I'm expecting anger, disgust, confusion. But all I can see in her face is friendliness. Go figure. Even when she has every right to be pissed, Tori's still playing the nice girl act.

I yank my hand out of her grasp and cross my arms, giving her what I hope is a withering glare. I want to say something about Andre being here, about Cat and Beck covering for them, but I know that wouldn't be fair. "I didn't see you at school today," I say instead.

"Oh." Tori seems faintly disappointed, as if she'd expected – or hoped – that I would say something different. A sudden thought flashes through my mind: maybe she wants _me_ to bring up last night. She's waiting for me to explain that message, to apologize, to swear I'll never do it again. "Do you want something to drink?" Tori asks, catching me off-guard. She hasn't offered any explanation for her absence today, which is as confusing as it is unnerving. She's normally so transparent – it's one of the things I really like about her, although I've never told her, or anyone, that.

"I'm good, thanks," I say with a shrug.

"Suit yourself." Tori shrugs too, but hers is bouncy, playful. She all but flounces over to the kitchen to get herself a drink, leaving me standing awkwardly in the living room.

While she's in the kitchen, I take a moment to consider her appearance. I'm trying to figure out what it is about her that I like. I don't normally let my mind wander this way, but the damage is done so I may as well see this track through. She's pretty, there's no denying it; I'd even told her as much one time, when we were on our fake date at Nozu. But it's not just her looks. It's… _her_. The way she speaks. The way she holds herself. The way she's always unashamedly who she is; no masks, no facades, nothing. She's just Tori.

As I'm contemplating the intricacies of _Tori_ , I realize what she's wearing. Normally when we come to her house to work on group projects or performances, she doesn't bother dressing up. She wears jeans and simple, almost plain shirts; a couple of times she's even worn sweats. Sometimes she wears her glasses too. But not now.

She's wearing jeans, but they seem to be shimmering, like they're covered by a light dusting of glitter. And, I realize with some amusement, there's the same shimmer in her hair. Her shirt is like the one she wore the first time we performed in Yerba – plain from the back, but with sequins on the front. It's a deep purple that, cliché as it sounds, really does bring out her eyes. Her hair is down, slightly curled at the ends, and she's wearing feather earrings that match her shirt. As she turns back around, I take in her full appearance, and I realize: she'd gone to a lot of effort.

My first thought is that it was for Andre's benefit. If she'd ditched school to hang out with him, of course she'd want to look good. Not that she doesn't look good anyway (yet another thing I've never admitted aloud), but this is performance-level pretty. Like she'd been putting on a show.

"You sure I can't get you anything?" Tori asks, waving her hand vaguely at the kitchen around her. When I shake my head she finishes off her drink, sets her cup down, and starts making her way back over to me.

Since she doesn't seem like she's going to bring it up, I do. "Look, Tori, about that text I sent you -"

"Don't," Tori interrupts quietly. She's smiling, the same kind of secret smile that Andre had flashed at me before he left. She's up to something, and I'm not sure I want to know what. "Don't talk," she says, still in that gentle, quiet tone. "Just listen."

Before I can protest she's pushing me toward the sofa, and I don't bother fighting as she pushes me down onto it. She holds my shoulders for a moment more, squeezes them slightly, and then lets go.

"Wait here," she says, skirting around the back of the sofa.

I stay sitting where I am, confused by where this is going. I'd thought Tori was going to be upset, or angry, or any of the other emotions that I actually understand. Instead she's secretive, almost… _seductive_. But that doesn't make sense. I shake my head slightly, trying to convince myself that I misinterpreted. Her smile was friendly; that's all. She wore that outfit for Andre; not me. And the way she winked at me as she walked away just now… that had to have been accidental.

When she comes back she's holding a _microphone_ of all things, and that's when I accept the fact that I have no idea what she's doing.

"Andre helped me with this," she says, twirling the microphone in her hands. If I'm not much mistaken it almost looks like her hands are shaking, but that can't be right. "We've been working on it all day."

The microphone. Her outfit. Andre's help. At last I think I have an idea of where this might be going, but the last pieces of the puzzle haven't fallen into place yet.

Tori clears her throat, pulls a remote out of her pocket, and then meets my eyes. "So, Jade," she says, her voice low – almost _seductive,_ I think again – and slightly hesitant, "this is for you."

A click, a smile, and then music starts playing. I recognize it after a bar or two, and then I'm back to being utterly lost again. It's _You Don't Know Me,_ the song I sang for the Full Moon Jam. The one I accidentally used to win Beck back, a few months before we broke up again (this time for good). Why is Tori going to sing this, of all songs?

But then the lyrics start, and I realize she's changed them.

She sits down on the table in front of me as she sings the first verse, her voice growing in volume and confidence with each line.

 _"I thought I knew you but I don't know you_

 _I thought you'd hate me but you don't, do you?_

 _I look at you and there's just one thing that I see…"_

The beat is slightly slower, the words softer. More of a ballad than a pop song, but somehow she makes it work.

As she sings, Tori's watching me. There's an unspoken question behind her words; she's waiting for my reaction. She isn't singing this for me, I realize; she's singing it _to_ me.

As she dives into the revamped chorus, I don't know what to expect. It's faster than the verse, the music swelling as Tori gets to her feet, moving in time to the beat. I've always loved the way she performs, somehow caught between being spurred on by the crowd and being completely lost in the music.

 _"So listen to me,_

 _listen to me."_

Tori's still moving in time, her body twisting and turning sensually, almost _sexually_. I'm utterly captivated, suddenly wondering how on earth I'd never gotten around to telling her what an amazing performer she is.

 _"You told me how_

 _you feel for me._

 _Oh oh, oh oh._

 _I know enough_

 _and I can see_

 _clearly, c-c-c-c-clearly."_

I try to focus on the words but it's difficult when Tori's right in front of me, singing like that, _moving_ like that… giving me my very own private concert. My gaze has dipped slightly lower and I quickly jerk it back up to her face. She catches my eye, winks, and keeps singing.

 _"You're dangerous, they're warning me._

 _Should I be afraid of you?_

 _Or should I believe that_

 _you could love me?"_

My heart is pounding in earnest now, my entire body transfixed by the sight before me. This is not how I expected my evening to go, but it's so, _so_ much better. Tori catches my eye again, and she must see something she likes because she moves closer, singing directly to me, her hand drifting out every now and then to rest on my knee, my thigh, my hips as she sits down beside me.

 _"They said you'd hurt me but I don't believe it._

 _I think you're worth it even if nobody else believes it._

 _There's so much more to you than what you let me see…"_

That verse is softer, less volume and more feeling. She's sitting beside me now, not touching me but close enough that she could if she wanted to. The thought thrills me more than I would ever admit. As the song circles back to the chorus Tori squeezes my knee one more time as she stands up, stepping backwards onto the table with grace that I hadn't known she possessed.

 _"So listen to me,_

 _just listen to me."_

As the music swells again her dancing becomes more energetic, and she's holding the microphone like an honest-to-god rock star. Out of all of us she's probably the most likely to get a big break, especially after the Platinum Music Awards show, and moments like this remind me why she deserves it.

 _"If you like me,_

 _should I like you?_

 _Oh oh, oh oh._

 _If I like you,_

 _and you like me._

 _Oh oh, o-o-o-o-oh."_

Her voice is teasing now, the words edged with amusement. As the next verse starts she jumps down from the table, one hand holding the microphone and the other tossing her hair back in a way that literally makes my heart skip a beat. She stays in front of me as she sings the next part, her body moving in ways that fascinate me and keep me spellbound.

 _"You're dangerous, but I don't care_

 _'cause I'm not afraid of you._

 _And you might convince me_

 _that you love me."_

The words shiver through me, as scintillating as Tori's performance itself. The light catches on her shirt, her hair, her eyes. I can't look away. As the song mellows slightly she actually kneels down in front of me, her beautiful voice washing over me in cascades of emotion as she rests her free hand on my knee.

 _"And the longer that you stay,_

 _my heart is melting._

 _But the world feels okay,_

 _it feels okay._

 _He-ey…"_

I wonder if she knows that I'm trembling beneath her touch. I'm not one for showing emotion, but damn can I feel it. And right now my feelings for Tori are rushing through me with such force I actually feel dizzy. She stays there during the next verse, lightly touching me, her eyes never leaving my face as she finally makes her confession.

 _"You like me and_

 _I like you too._

 _You're here for me._

 _I'm here for you."_

It's sappy as hell, but her words make me melt. I think that there's nothing I wouldn't do if Tori asked me to, and the thought scares me. But here it is, the truth that I had never even considered: Tori likes me too. _Tori_ freaking _Vega_ has feelings for me. As she sings the next line she reaches out, standing up and pulling me to my feet in one fluid movement, silently coaxing me into dancing with her. To be honest I don't actually need all that much convincing.

 _"Let's go, let's go."_

By this point we're both dancing, our bodies close but not touching.

 _"Let's go, let's go."_

The music is swelling again, Tori's voice surrounding me in a blissful haze, my mind whirling with thoughts of her.

 _"Let's go, let's go."_

We've performed together before, in groups and even duets, but it's never felt like this before. This is personal, private.

 _"Let's go, let's go, let's go…"_

This is something that is, quite simply, _ours._

 _"If you let me_

 _I can show you_

 _what my heart knows._

 _You say it's real_

 _and I can feel_

 _changes, ch-ch-ch-ch-changes."_

We're still dancing, closer together now. Tori is all I can see, all I can hear, all I can _feel_. Our bodies brush up against each other, her words still washing over me, her hip bumping against me, her shoulder against mine, always moving, somehow perfectly in sync. This feels natural. This feels _good._ We're completely in sync, weaving around each other as if we've been doing it all our lives.

 _"You're dangerous, but so am I_

 _and I'm not afraid of you."_

As the last verse wraps up Tori nudges me toward the sofa, gently pushing me onto it like she did before the performance began. I sink down onto it, breathing heavily. I'm sure my face is flushed and energy is coursing through me and I think that I've never felt more _alive_. Tori kneels down in front of me again, her eyes locking onto mine, holding me captive.

 _"How can I convince you,_

 _oh, that I love you?"_

Her voice shivers slightly on the word _love_ , a faint pink blush spreading across her cheeks. But her voice is steady as she sings the final line, so softly I almost can't hear her:

 _"I think you'll find out."_

The music fades, and it's just me and Tori, eyes locked, hearts racing. A beat passes, and then we both move at the same instant. Tori tosses the microphone aside as she gets to her feet, and I stand up too, just in time to meet her in a fierce kiss that leaves us both even more breathless than the song had.

X.X.X.X.X

 _Tori's bedroom, night._

We're lying on the bed, Tori's head resting on my chest, my hand entwined in her hair.

"You know," I tell her, and she twists around so that she can meet my eyes, "if you wanted to tell me how you felt, you could have just _told_ me, like any _normal person_ would have done."

Tori snickers. "Yeah, but normal's boring," she says dismissively, and then after a beat she leans up and kisses me again, catching me off-guard in the best way possible.

As we lie beside each other I think of the past twenty-four hours, of how the expectation and anticipation of Tori's reaction to my confession had made me feel almost physically sick. How even now the sight of her makes my insides squirm and my heart race and about a dozen other clichés. How she ties me up in knots without even realizing it.

This is a new kind of pain. And, in all honesty, I think I kind of like it.

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

 **Okay, so that's it for _this_ story.**

 **BUT.**

 **I am working on another story. It's a supernatural AU (you know the type: werewolves and hunters and whatnot) but there is kind of a twist (which I'll explain when I post the story). It's definitely a Jori story but it will include the entire ensemble, with particular emphasis on Cade and Bori friendships. So if anyone's keen for that, it's called 'not all monsters' and I'll probably start publishing by the end of the week. I hope to see some of you there, and thank you for making my first experience writing for this fandom a very pleasant one. See you all around.**


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